


Like That, Just Like That

by cherrybina



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Comeplay, Dirty Talk, M/M, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-26
Updated: 2010-09-26
Packaged: 2017-11-23 08:16:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/619998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherrybina/pseuds/cherrybina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for this prompt: <i>Arthur bent over the side of the bed, fingering himself, while Eames sits in a chair across the room and masturbates. They wait until they absolutely cannot resist anymore before they let themselves touch each other.</i> Originally posted <a href="http://community.livejournal.com/inception_kink/11005.html?thread=22024189#t22024189">here</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like That, Just Like That

Eames’ mouth has been getting into trouble for as long as he can remember. He’s been slapped across the face, punched in the teeth, and shot at, all because of things that have come out before he thought them all the way through. But this is an entirely new kind of torture, all because of his stupid mouth.

“I want to watch you touch yourself,” Eames had said to Arthur. “I want to watch you get your fingers all wet and then fuck yourself open for me.”

He had been in the process of fucking Arthur’s brains out at the time, and hadn’t really been thinking about specifics; it was just one more filthy thing that came out in between _yeah, yeah, you’re so fucking tight, take it just like that_ and _c’mon, come for me_. Eames hadn’t even remembered saying it until Arthur had pushed him down in the chair with both of them still fully clothed, and said, “I want you to watch me, just like you said. Don’t get up until I tell you.”

Arthur can be a cruel and heartless bastard, Eames knows this, but this is definitely the worst – worse even than that time Arthur had shot him in the face in the middle of a dream and never even bothered to apologize after they woke up. Eames watches as Arthur strips off his clothes, taking his time with the buttons of his shirt, gracefully shimmying out of those well-fitting trousers Eames loves so much. Eames leers at him and rubs the bulge in his own trousers, but Arthur just grins and turns around. And that’s when Eames realizes just what a truly terrible idea this was.

Eames loves Arthur's arse - he's never been ashamed to admit that - and here it is right in front of him, looking smooth and perfect, and he's not allowed to touch. Arthur grabs the bottle of lube from the drawer and leans over the side of the bed with his arse in the air, and while there are many, many filthy wonderful things Eames wants to do with Arthur like that, watching is definitely not one of them. He wants to get down on his knees and spread Arthur wide open, lick him until Arthur whimpers, slide wet fingers into that tight heat one at a time until Arthur is begging for it, fuck him until they’re both too exhausted to move.

Instead, he watches as Arthur slicks up his fingers and spreads his legs a little wider before reaching back and pushing one inside. Eames makes a frustrated sound and Arthur glances back over his shoulder. His eyes are heavy-lidded and his cheeks are flushed pink, but he manages a wicked grin.

“You will recall that this was your idea.”

Eames can’t decide if he wants to glare at Arthur or watch as Arthur’s finger disappears inside that tight ring of muscle. “And when did you start listening to me?”

“I will admit that occasionally you have flashes of brilliance,” Arthur says, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment. He has two fingers inside himself now, and he’s pushing his hips back, fucking himself onto his hand, watching over his shoulder as Eames unzips his trousers and pulls his cock free.

“You like that, don’t you?” Eames says, letting his mouth run away from him as he slowly strokes himself. “Of course you do. You’re not exactly quiet about how much you love my cock.”

Arthur drops his eyes to Eames’ lap, and when he licks his lips, Eames thinks for a moment that he’s won, but then Arthur turns his face back into the sheets. “Don’t come like that. I want you to fuck me.”

“I can fuck you right now.”

“Not yet,” Arthur says, then lets out a breathless little sigh when he pushes a third finger into himself.

Eames knows he should keep his mouth shut. It’s what got him into this in the first place, but there’s no way he can stay quiet with Arthur bent over the bed fucking himself open and gasping into the sheets. “C’mon, let me do it right now. Look at you all wet and open for me. You know how good it feels, you know how much better it will be when I push my cock inside, fuck you wide open. So much better than your fingers. I’ll fuck you so good, fill you up, then lick you clean again.”

“ _Fuck_ ,” Arthur hisses, and Eames can see the way his hips are moving as he rubs himself against the sheets.

But Arthur plays dirty, he always has, and he hooks one knee up on the bed and reaches back with his other hand to hold himself open, and now Eames can see _everything_.

Eames bites back a groan and squeezes the base of his cock so he doesn’t come right there on the spot. Arthur pulls his fingers all the way out and rubs them up and down his crack. He’s a mess – there’s lube everywhere, all over his hand, dripping down the insides of his thighs, and Eames watches as Arthur rubs his fingers right over his hole, all shiny and pink, before pushing them back in. Eames knows exactly what that feels like – he knows it with his fingers and his tongue and his cock, and all he wants right now is to feel the slick wet heat of Arthur gripping him tight and needy. He wants to stretch him open, fuck him hard, make a mess of them both.

Eames is getting close; he tries to hold himself back, but it’s impossible with Arthur fucking back onto his own hand and moaning into the sheets. Eames really doesn’t want to come like this, all over his own hand, not when Arthur is right there, and so fucking ready for it.

“Arthur,” he chokes out, and it sounds pathetic and shamefully close to begging to his own ears, but he's beyond the beyond the point of caring.

“Do it.” Arthur pulls his fingers free and looks back over his shoulder, his face a beautiful wreck. “Fuck me.”

Eames is on him before he’s done talking, pushing his own trousers down to his thighs, grabbing Arthur by the hips and shoving him up higher on the bed. He runs his hand up the slick trails of lube dripping down Arthur’s thigh and uses that to slick his cock, and then finally, _finally_ , he’s pushing in. Arthur opens so easily for him as Eames slides in with one long, smooth stroke. Eames drapes himself over Arthur’s back and leans into to brush his mouth to Arthur’s neck.

“Isn’t that better than your fingers?” Eames murmurs in Arthur’s ear.

“You can’t shut up, can you?” Arthur gasps as he shoves his hips back.

“Not when you feel this good,” Eames says, then pins Arthur down by the hips, leans back, and fucks him.

They’re not going to last, not with both of them wound up like this and already so close, and far too soon, Arthur’s whole body goes tense under Eames, and he comes all over the sheets with a shuddering groan, clenching tight around Eames’ cock. The feel of it is enough to send Eames over, and he digs his fingers into Arthur’s hips and shoves into him hard as he comes.

It’s a few minutes before they manage to untangle themselves and crawl up onto the bed. Eames pulls his trousers all the way off while Arthur collapses onto his stomach, his face buried in the pillows. Eames flops down beside him and runs his hand down Arthur’s back.

“Are you going to hold me to every filthy promise I make?” Eames asks. “Because I'm quite certain I’ve made suggestions that sound more interesting than watching.”

Arthur turns his head on the pillow and looks up at Eames. “I did admit that you occasionally have flashes of brilliance. I suppose you could come up with something for next time.”

“Next time? I was thinking more like now,” Eames says as he slides his fingers down Arthur’s crack and rubs them over his fucked open hole. Arthur hisses; he must be oversensitive and a little sore, but he pushes back into Eames’ hand anyway, and _fuck_ , that’s hot.

“I didn’t get to touch you before,” Eames continues, and pushes two fingers in all at once. They slide in so easily, with Arthur all wet with lube and come. “That wasn’t very fair since you know how much I love this.”

Arthur just hums into the pillow and spreads his legs a little wider, and Eames wishes he could fuck him again right this minute. Instead he pulls his fingers all the way out and runs them down through the mess, then slides them back in, pushing his come into Arthur.

Arthur is making these soft noises and moving his hips, and Eames grins and slides down Arthur’s body, pressing kisses all along his back as he goes, spreading him gently open. Arthur’s hole is all red and shiny-slick, and Eames watches as his come drips out and slides down the inside of Arthur’s thigh.

Arthur’s breaths are coming hot and heavy into the sheets. “I won’t be able to come. Not yet.”

“That’s okay, darling,” Eames whispers, into the hot skin of Arthur’s thigh. “But I did promise to clean you up.”


End file.
